The excellent Greenpointers blog has alerted us to this limited edition “Absolut Brooklyn,” which has a logo designed by Spike Lee and tastes of “apple and ginger.”
Cue a thousand jokes along the lines of “Well my Brooklyn tastes of PBR and despair,” “My Brooklyn tastes like stroller exhaust and entitlement,” and “My Brooklyn tastes like shitty public transit and rising gentrification.”
(Eagle Street Rooftop Farms, Greenpoint BK)
Today, my local rooftop farm opens, rain or shine. In the email I received yesterday announcing this occasion, they also mentioned a beekeeper giving a lecture at 2pm. The excerpt:
Tomorrow the free 2pm lecture series begins on the rooftop with Ross Conrad speaking on beekeeping. One of the most inspiring lecturers at this year’s NOFA conference, we’re looking foward to hearing his take on urban beekeping, now that it’s legal in NYC. In a city of neophyte apiaries, we’re looking forward to his wise words. There are three new hives (and soon, chickens!) on our rooftop—what’s happening in *your* backyard?
Naturally, I’d like to take this moment to answer what is happening in my backyard. I’m not growing any vegetables or fruits although my landlord planted tomatoes last year and the birds went affe-scheisse on them. But what’s really happening, readers, is a full-on Kitty Bar. Open 24/7. Neighborhood cats galore, rowling and murring and getting their jollies in my backyard.
So, Eagle Street Rooftop Gardens, I know it’s no beekeeping hive stuff. And there are no chicken coups. But somehow, someway, I’m contributing. Very negatively, actually. But still. That’s what’s happening in *my* backyard.
From an eagle-eyed tipster—thanks! —Snacktime
I like the Bedford Cheese Shop, I really do. The people who work there are really nice and they have many expensive snack foods that I enjoy looking at and even occasionally buying. That said, their famed cheese descriptions have gone from cute to dear-god-just-write-your-novel:
“If this cheese were a person, it would be a cigar-smoking, loud-mouthed, high-stakes roller with poor bathing habits”
“Gives your mouth the sensation of licking a damp carpet of grass.”
“This is the cheese of rodeo cowboys, professional wrestlers and other American heroes. And you too will feel like an American hero when you eat Vermont Shepherd Reserve.”
“Smells like a drunken sailor on shore leave, and it’s just as randy.”
Worst of all, they attract the kind of clientele who appreciates such descriptions and so when I do go in there I am forced to stand in line behind some guy who needs to taste 25 cheese in search of one he ate on spring break from Brown that tasted like virgins and strawberries, with a touch of dirty youth hostel linens.
—Snacktime